Sword of Darkness (18 page)

“I don’t want to ruin what you are, Seren. The power
will
change you. It always does.”

Still she met his gaze unflinchingly. “And I want to be able to protect myself. You can’t give me the strength of a warrior, but you can give me the magic of a sorceress.”

He couldn’t fault her for wanting that, and if he failed tomorrow, she would be alone in the world. Alone with his child.

God’s blood, how he didn’t want to teach her something that could eventually hurt her. But he didn’t really have a choice in this. If something happened to him, she would be defenseless, and he better than anyone knew what happened to the defenseless in this world.

He couldn’t leave her like that. Leave her prey to something like him. Not when he had the ability to stop it.

“You realize there isn’t enough time to train you? Whatever you learn, you won’t be able to use it.” At least not if he went by conventional means.

Disappointment filled her eyes.

The sight of her defeat slammed into him.

Don’t. Besides, what do you care? She’s nothing but a pawn to carry your child
. But he knew better than that. This little mouse had come to mean a great deal to him, and that scared him more than
facing all of Morgen’s army with no sword and no armor.

He bit back a curse at the truth. And he knew what he had to do. He only hoped that by helping her, he wasn’t about to destroy her.

“Blaise,” Kerrigan said quietly to the mandrake who was
still in his chair. “Give us the room.”

Blaise’s eyes flared as if he understood what Kerrigan was about to do. For a second, he expected Blaise to argue.

He didn’t.

Instead the dragon got up and headed for the door with that silent walk that had always reminded Kerrigan of a ghost gliding.

He waited until they were alone before he returned to Seren’s side. He still couldn’t believe he was about to do this. Never in all these centuries had he ever helped anyone.

No one.

But Seren was right. He couldn’t stand by and see his child abused as he’d been. He couldn’t leave it alone in the world. Morgen would kill them both if she had a chance and raise the child in who only knew what manner. His best course of action would be to arm Seren so that she could
fight the bitch as an equal. If he unlocked her full powers, then she could be quickly trained and shown how to use them to fight Morgen and her army.

Hoping he was making the right decision, he unbuckled the sword from his hips and forced himself to prop it against the chair. But it was hard. He never liked to let the sword go for more than a few seconds at a time—something that had often pissed off Morgen since he’d always made love to her with it in his grasp.

But all that was behind him now.

Seren wasn’t sure what to expect as Kerrigan pulled her back to his front. He leaned his cheek against her head as he murmured something in a language she didn’t understand. Wrapping his arms around her, he rocked her gently in his embrace as a strange redlike haze encircled them.

Breathe easy
. The words were spoken inside her head as Kerrigan continued to chant softly in her ear. But it was hard to obey. The haze seemed to choke her. It was too thick to breathe. She felt as if she were drowning. Gasping. It was unbearable, and her lungs burned from the effort.

Just as she was sure she would die from it, she felt a sharp pain at her neck. A scream lodged in her throat as she dug her nails into Kerrigan’s thighs.

Kerrigan growled at the taste of Seren’s innocent blood. His stomach cramped in pain, but he ignored it. This was a ritual that was older than time. One practiced by the very first of their kind.

Originally, the blood ceremony was used to marry the powers of the Pendragon who ruled the
people to the Penmerlin who commanded the elements. The Penmerlin would be killed afterward, leaving the powers solely with the newly crowned Pendragon so that he could better rule his people.

But he had no intention of killing Seren. Pulling back, he licked his lips as he turned her around in his arms. Her eyes were no longer her own, they were now black from the dark magic that had corrupted him. The magic that fed and nourished him.

She was drunk from it. She was no longer pure. No longer innocent.

His heart breaking at what he’d done to her, Kerrigan opened the neck of his armor and bent his head for her. She wasted no time in taking what he offered.

Kerrigan cursed as she sank her teeth into his neck and pulled his powers into her own body. They were joined now. Two souls sharing all the knowledge of a Merlin’s abilities. His blood carried in it all he’d learned. All he’d experienced.

Unlike him, Seren wouldn’t have to learn her powers. They would course through her now, along with the ability to wield them.

The room began to swim as he was weakened even more.

She clutched him to her as she greedily drank his essence. Afraid she would consume too much, he pulled back.

She advanced on him.

Kerrigan caught her in his arms. “Enough, Seren! If you take too much, you’ll kill me.”

Her eyes were no longer human, they were
completely red with the black pupils showing him a reflection of himself. He looked pale. But he was still in control here. Not her.

“I want more.” Her voice was deep, demonic.

Kerrigan ground his teeth at the sound he despised. He’d given her the very worst of himself. And he hated it. “Nay.”

Seren shrieked as that word echoed in her head. It was strangely painful, and the new creature inside her rebelled at its utterance. It clawed at her, demanding that she take Kerrigan now and make him pay for the pain he caused by denying her.

How dare he tell her nay!

She leaned her head back as an invisible wind whipped through the room, sending her hair flying about her. It was warm and wicked, licking her flesh, making her wanton. She licked her lips hungrily as her entire body demanded appeasement.

She’d never felt anything like this before. It was power. Raw and uncomplicated. Hissing, she let it pour through her until she was able to channel it into the palm of her hand. With a laugh, she unleashed it against the table that was closest to her.

The table splintered into ashes.

Oh, this felt good. Too good. Nothing could stop her now. Giddy with that knowledge, she started for the door, only to find Kerrigan in her way.

“Where are you going, little mouse?”

“There’s no mouse here,” she said in a voice that seemed to echo in her head. “I’m going to face the bitch and kill her.”

“Nay, Seren. You’re not that strong yet.”

“Watch me.” She started past him only to have
him grab her. She sent a blast at him that he deflected.

Enraged, she moved to attack him.

He wrapped himself around her, pinning her limbs so that she couldn’t move.

Seren screamed out.

“Shh,” he whispered against her ear. “Let the power flow through you. Don’t let it consume you. Give it a few minutes and it won’t hurt anymore.” His deep voice began a soft, gentle lullaby that her mother used to sing to her long ago when she was just a child. It reached down deep inside her and touched something alien. Something soft and quiet.

Her anger retreated as she remembered being a small child in her mother’s lap.

“Be good for me, Seren. Always.”
It was her mother’s tender voice she heard crooning to her, not Kerrigan’s.

And then the evil returned. It sneered and fought against those tender thoughts. It wanted vengeance and gore.

What do you need with goodness? Banish it. Laugh at it. You have your own power now. You need no one else. Take it and use it to hurt all those who dared to hurt you…

That voice was overwhelming and cold and it brought with it a flurry of images that burned her.

Indeed, something inside her crackled and popped, and unleashed a torrent of memories that weren’t her own…

She saw a younger Kerrigan. Dressed in meager rags, he was only ten-and-eight summers in age. He shook in terror as he held his sword above his
head. It burned in his grip, yet still he held it tightly within his desperate grasp. He could hear the echoing laughter that rang in the trees of the dark forest that surrounded him, but he saw nothing of the woman who made such a sound.

“Show yourself,” he snarled, his grip tightening on the hilt even more. “I have no fear of you.”

“Perhaps you should.”

He jumped forward as the heavenly voice whispered in his ear. Turning about, he gaped at the sight of the woman before him. Dressed in a gown so red that it was inhuman, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her pale hair and skin were a stark contrast to the vibrancy of her dress.

“Who are you?”

She licked her lips as she gave him a seductive pout. “I am Morgen, queen of the fey.”

He angled his sword at her, ready to kill her if she tried to take it from him. “I don’t believe in the fey.”

She gave him a mocking smile. “Then explain the sword you hold at my throat. Explain how it killed the men who were after you without touching them.”

He had no explanation of how the men had been struck down. It was magical and not born of this earth. Even now he could feel the life force of the weapon he held. Feel the power of it. It was changing him somehow. The sword seemed to be alive, whispering its will into his mind.

The woman held her hand out to him. “Come with me, boy, and I will make you a king.”

He scoffed at her outrageous offer. “King of what? Peasants? Beggars?”

“Nay,” she said in her voice that was rife with promise and seduction. “I can give you riches and power beyond your wildest imaginings.”

He found that even harder to believe. “I have quite an active imagination and I am no fool. No peasant becomes a king unless it is king of the lowest, and of that I have no need. I’ve been a ruler of
them
since the hour of my birth.”

Morgen cocked her head as she studied him curiously. “So mistrustful, my evil heart. But have no fear. A peasant can become king when he isn’t really a peasant.”

Her words gave him pause. “What say you?”

She reached out and boldly brushed the blade of his sword aside with her hand. With no regard of the danger, she approached him slowly, swinging her hips suggestively. “You were hidden, boy, by those who were afraid of your birthright. They knew that you were destined to find this sword and to become the greatest king the world has ever known.”

Kerrigan closed his eyes at her words. Dare he even begin to believe or to hope? A chill went over him. One that was intensified as she raked a cold finger down his right cheek.

“Come with me and I will show you a world of wonders where you will never again know hunger or want.”

He couldn’t breathe as he thought of that. How he wished it were so. All his life he’d had nothing. Never enough food. Never enough clothing.

Never dignity.

His entire existence was one of burning, painful
wants. Of a yearning so strong that it had left blistered scars on his soul.

“Morgen!”

Kerrigan opened his eyes as he heard the sharp cry of a woman’s voice. This newcomer stood tall and proud, like an Amazon warrior. Her long red hair was plaited and drawn off her sharp, angular face. She was pleasing enough in looks, but there was a harshness to her features that made her seem jaded and cold.

Not to mention she wore the golden armor of a man. It gleamed in the dim light, obscuring any trace of womanly curve to her body.

A knight stood by her side. Only two inches taller, he had a face that would rival any woman’s for beauty. His features were fragile and perfect and set off by the mass of wavy golden hair that fell haphazardly around his face.

Kerrigan had never seen anything like them or the strange golden armor they wore.

Morgen moved to stand beside him so that she could drape one long, shapely arm over his shoulders. “Well, what have we here? The Monk and the Frigid. What an interesting combination Merlin has sent this time.”

The woman drew her sword and stepped forward. “He belongs to us. Move away from him, Morgen, or perish.”

Morgen laughed out loud. “You can’t kill me, and we both know it. Now sheath the sword, Elaine, before I use it to mess up that pretty face of yours.” She took a minute to breathe in his ear. His body hardened instantly.

Laughing again, Morgen toyed with his ear as she continued to talk to Elaine. “You know the rules, Queen Frigid. We both have an equal shot at our little man here. He is the one who has to choose which path to follow. Your way or mine…”

Elaine cursed.

Morgen ignored her. “What
will
he do?” She sucked her breath in sharply as she stepped away from him to taunt the other two. “The suspense is killing me…Oh, the agony and horror of waiting.”

“Then I say we drag it out,” Elaine said dryly. “With any luck you’ll perish and end this war once and for all.”

Morgen curled her lip until she looked back at Kerrigan. Her face softened into the tenderest of expressions. “Come with me and I will give you whatever you desire. Wealth. Power. Women. No one will ever mock you again.”

Kerrigan’s heart raced with desire. It was too much to hope for, and well he knew it. All things had a price. No one ever gave up anything without wanting payment for it. “And what is the cost of that?”

“There is no cost. You will join my fey army as their leader and king. You will have your every wish fulfilled.” Morgen returned to nuzzle his neck and purr into his ear. “Even
I
will be yours.”

He drew his breath in sharply as an image of her naked and in his bed flashed through his mind.

“Stop that, Morgen,” Elaine snapped. “You can’t plant images into his head. ’Tis against the rules.”

Morgen shrugged before she stepped away. The
images vanished from his thoughts. “Fine then. Make him your offer and let him see your virtue.”

Elaine tried to soften her face in the same manner as Morgen, but it didn’t have the same effect. It only looked as if she were in pain. “Come with us and you will join the side of all that is good and decent in the world.”

“We are champions of right,” the man said. “My name is Galahad, and we serve a higher order. Chastity, sacrifice, and humility are our oaths. Join us and know that your life will be spent making other lives better.”

Elaine grimaced at Galahad as if she could kill him for his offer. As it was, she did strike his shoulder so hard that he grimaced in pain.

Kerrigan stared at the two of them in disbelief. Were they serious? What did he need with chastity? Indeed, he’d spent the whole of his nights trying to find women to ease that burden from him.

As for sacrifice and humility, he’d been bred to them both, and quite frankly had had more than enough of it in his short lifetime. To hell with that.

Galahad held his hand out to him. “Give us your sword, lad. Join our order, and you will have the family you have never known.”

And there was another thing that had never served him well. Even if he knew who his father was, he was certain the man had been a bastard of some sort. Not to mention, his own
sweet
mother had once tried to sell him.

Family…they could shove that as well.

Morgen licked her lips hungrily. “Swear your sword to me, boy, and you will have the power to
make anyone who tries to teach you humility turn into toads. Let the monks have their chastity and family, and let us live our lives to their fullest. Take what you desire and make it yours.”